The Perfect Egg Salad

Memorial Day weekend. I drove to Lakeview Cemetery on Saturday morning, same as I do every year. My parents are there, side by side, the headstones plain granite because Bergstroms don't do ornamental. Dad's says his name, his dates, and "Korea" underneath, because that's all he wanted said about it. Mom's says her name and her dates. No epitaphs. Bergstroms say what needs saying while you're alive. After that, the stone just marks the spot.

I brought a jar of maple syrup and left it on Dad's headstone. I've done this every Memorial Day and every April on his birthday since he died in '95. It makes no logical sense. The squirrels get it. I don't care. Some things aren't about logic. They're about showing up.

Dad was at the Bulge. He came home and opened a hardware store and raised a son and never talked about any of it. I went to Vietnam. I came home and got a degree and taught English and never talked about any of it. We understood each other perfectly without exchanging a single word on the subject. That's inheritance. Not the house, not the maples — the silence. The knowledge that some things stay where you left them, in the dark, and the dark is where they belong.

After the cemetery I came home and made potato salad. Helen's recipe — boiled potatoes, still warm, tossed with vinegar so they absorb it, then mixed with celery, hard-boiled eggs, mustard, mayonnaise, salt, pepper, and a handful of fresh dill if you have it. We had it. The garden's producing dill already, which is early, but the dill doesn't consult my schedule.

We had hamburgers on the grill. Nothing fancy. Ground beef, salt, pepper, a hot grill, and the self-discipline to flip them once and only once. I've said it before and I'll say it again: if you flip a burger more than once, I question your character. Helen says I take grilling too seriously. I say there's no such thing.

David and the family came down for the afternoon. Teddy ran around the yard with Frost. Anna ate potato salad with her hands, which at three is acceptable. Karen sat in the shade and looked tired and pregnant and content. David and I stood by the grill and didn't talk about the cemetery. He knows I went. I know he knows. That's sufficient.

The flags are out on Church Street. The cemetery is mowed. Dad's syrup is on the stone. We remember. That's what the day is for.

After a day like that—quiet and heavy and good in the way that Memorial Day always is—nobody wanted anything complicated for supper. Egg salad is what I make when I want to feed people without making a production of it, and we had the dill right there from the garden, which felt like the day was handing me something easy. Here’s how I put it together.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 25 min (plus chilling) | Servings: 6

Ingredients

8 large eggs
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon yellow mustard
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar or apple cider vinegar
2 stalks celery, finely diced
2 tablespoons fresh dill, chopped (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
Paprika for garnish, optional

Instructions

Hard-boil the eggs. Place eggs in a single layer in a saucepan and cover with cold water by one inch. Bring to a full boil over medium-high heat, then remove from heat, cover, and let sit exactly 12 minutes.
Cool and peel. Transfer eggs immediately to a bowl of ice water and let sit 10 minutes. Peel under cool running water. Pat dry.
Chop. Dice the eggs into roughly 1/2-inch pieces. Some people mash — that’s their business. A chop gives you something to bite into.
Mix the dressing. In a medium bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, mustard, and vinegar until smooth. Season with salt and pepper.
Combine. Fold in the chopped eggs, celery, and dill. Stir gently — you want texture, not paste. Taste and adjust salt.
Chill. Cover and refrigerate at least 30 minutes before serving. It gets better as it sits. Dust with paprika before bringing it to the table if you’re the type. Serve with crackers, on bread, or alongside whatever’s coming off the grill.

Nutrition (per serving)

The Perfect Egg Salad — Helen’s Kind of Recipe